Love Like Hate
by DancingAtMidnight
Summary: Life is hard, and it's only more difficult when you're caught between what you know is right and what you wish wasn't wrong. Julia/Michael, eventual Julia/Derek.
1. Accusations

"It's not done yet? Are you kidding me? Marilyn is less than a week away and the book isn't done. Do you have anything in that brain of yours?" The harsh words and annoyingly proper British accent echoed around the rehearsal space and a few of the ensemble turned to stare. Julia looked down at the table, unable to meet the accusing eyes. She knew that it was unacceptable to still have a scattered book this late in the process. She knew she was disappointing the entire cast and crew with her lack of work. She knew…but she didn't. She didn't know anything anymore.

"I'll get it done," she reassured quietly, not wanting to be the star of this sudden show. Derek didn't seem to share her feelings. He slammed his palm down onto the table angrily and she recoiled backwards, keeping her eyes averted.

"You sure as hell will get it done," the director seethed.

"I'm trying…please, I'm trying. It's just…I've had some…family issues lately and…"

"Yeah, we all know about your 'family issues.' Maybe you wouldn't have so many of those if you stopped sleeping around with married men!"

The woman froze, blood rushing to her face. The rehearsal hall grew quiet. Everyone was watching her, their eyes curious, their brains thirsty for the latest theatre gossip…willing or not, she had become the latest topic in every backstage conversation. Julia stepped backwards and grabbed her bag off her chair, willing herself not to cry. She could feel Michael staring into her.

"I don't know what you heard," she breathed, her voice catching. "Or who you heard it from. But my personal affairs-my personal life- isn't yours to broadcast to an entire room of people."

Derek seemed unconcerned. He watched her breakdown with a cruel level of apathy.

"I've screwed up!" She snapped, her blue eyes desperately trying to avoid contact with the man she knew was being wounded with every word.

"Apparently you screwed _around_ more than _up_…" A chorus boy murmured with a raised eyebrow. She ignored him, ignored the whole room but for Derek and Michael.

"I made a mistake. But it's not your problem, and it's not your business, and the book will get done." She locked her eyes with Derek's and spoke directly to him. "It will get done no matter how many people I feel like screwing."

With her words stinging in the air, Julia turned on her heel and slammed out the door, tears washing down her face.


	2. Goodbye

She was going to kill that man. Kill him slowly, and painfully, and-

"Julia!" The deep voice resounded in the hallway, empty but for Julia. She kept walking. That voice…she knew that voice, she knew the sweetest words it had to offer and the forbidden temptations it brought with every word. And for once in her life, she didn't want it. She didn't want that voice.

"Please, Julia, baby…" Michael's footsteps quickened behind her.

She tried to speed up, to outrun the pain, the humiliation, the memories. His steps increased with hers, mocking the way they'd somehow always be together. Just go away, she thought. I don't want you. Not now. Not again.

The long skirt she wore tangled in her heels and she went crashing down, her hands hitting the tiled flooring with a sickening slap. In an instant Michael was behind her, in front of her…everywhere. His kisses were on her neck, his hands uselessly trying to wipe away the tears that wouldn't cease. He was so gentle, so loving, but it only made her cry harder. She was not his to love.

"It's okay. It's okay, Jules, they don't know. They don't know it's me." He placed his hands on her face and stared deep into her blue eyes. "We can still be together!"

She wanted to say something, to protest, but she felt so lost. When he touched her, it made her lose her head. She wanted him to leave, she wanted him to stay. She wanted him to love her, she wanted him gone. She needed…something, but she couldn't place what it was.

"Michael-"

"I'm right here, baby."

She took his hands off her face, her brow furrowed. His eyes reflected everything she felt in her own, but in such an innocent, childlike way.

"No, Michael. We can't do this. We can't be together."

It was his turn to look lost. He broke eye contact and grabbed her hand, kissing it lightly. She felt warm tears fall onto her palm.

"I love you, Jules. I love you so much," he whispered.

Julia scrunched her eyes against the pain. She felt like she was drowning without any water in sight. Drowning in his tears and her sorrow, drowning in the locked up desire she couldn't find.

"I know…oh, Michael, I know. But this isn't right. We always end up hurt."

She tore her arm from his lips and stood. Her whole body was shaking.

"We always end up hurt," she repeated.

It was the hardest goodbye she could remember saying, made only more difficult by the fact that it wasn't goodbye at all. He was still in her musical, still in her life, and she'd see him every day. She'd have to wake up and pretend that nothing was different, because no one could know that everything was.

"Bye, Michael," she murmured, and turned before she could see the look of agony in his eyes.

She made it all the way to the door of Derek's office before she couldn't stand anymore and sank to the ground, willing someone to find her. Heavens knew she needed to be found, in more ways than she could ever imagine.

**A/N: Thanks so much to the reviewers…it was great to hear positive feedback about this ship. Next chapter begins the story of Julia/Derek!**


	3. Humanity

"What the hell? Julia? Julia!" The deep voice increased in volume as Derek rounded the corner, striding quickly towards the woman crumpled on the floor in front of his office. At first glance he had thought she had fainted, but her frail body was shaking with unsteady breaths and her blue eyes were open, blinking away the glisten inside them.

Julia glanced up, her face contorted with a look of deepest sadness. She could feel tears still pooling in her eyes and she hurriedly brushed them away, not wanting the man to have any more insight into her personal life then he already did. Granted, sinking to the floor by his workplace probably wasn't the most inconspicuous thing she could have done.

"Derek," she exclaimed, quickly fixing her hair back behind her ears.

He extended a hand and she incredulously took it, not believing his sudden change from cruel to chivalrous. The woman cautiously got to her feet. She didn't quite trust herself in her wrecked emotional state, and didn't want to fall back down in front of the director.

That thought made her brow furrow. Why did she care what he thought…what he saw? He was only callous towards her; he shouldn't be someone she cared about impressing. She quickly dropped her hand from his and turned to pick up her bag.

"Julia," he emphasized.

She whipped around, her red curls flying in the motion.

"What?" She snapped, intending to sound less concerned than she did.

He walked over to her, slowly, cautiously. His eyes took in the tear tracks on her face, her tortured expression, her breathless manner and he couldn't help but feel an absurd level of empathy for the woman. Derek brought his hand up and she flinched, but he only took his fingers and gently wiped a glistening tear from her cheek.

"Is this because of what I said?" he inquired.

Julia fidgeted uncomfortably at his sudden display of humanity. This was not Derek, not the heartless director she had come to work with. This man had feelings, had emotions…he cared about her. Julia locked her eyes with his and noticed sentiment in them.

"In a way," she murmured, answering his question.

It was as if someone flicked a switch inside the director's brain. As suddenly as it had come, the emotion left his eyes, left his heart, and his face became cold and blank once more. He removed his hand from the woman's pale face, allowing some distance between them.

"Sorry you took it that way, then," he commented, but it didn't sound sincere.

Julia's heart was beating fast, a longing she was fighting finally breaking through. She wanted the man she had seen only a moment ago, the one with the kind eyes and creative heart. She wanted to make him feel again, even for just a split second.

"Derek..." she called softly as he went away. He stopped, but didn't turn back.

There was a moment of still silence and she felt just how intense her feelings for him were. They weren't all good; there was plenty of loathing at his ways and sadness at his attitude. But a certain small part of her knew that somewhere inside there was a hold he had on her, a charm she couldn't keep repressed forever.

"I'm sorry," she said, talking as much to herself, to her husband, to Michael, as she was to Derek.

He didn't question. His feet tapped a steady rhythm on the floor as he walked away. Julia's already shattered heart ached for him to come back as much as her logic insisted she was glad he was leaving. She couldn't bear to lose the man, the one she had seen for only an instant, despite the hatred his other side had caused.

Just for once, she wanted something to be simple.


	4. Notice

"You're home late," Frank stated as his wife slammed through their front door. She threw her purse on the table with a thud and turned to find her notebook, carefully swinging her curls to shield her swollen eyes. She loved Frank, she really did, but he would never understand. He was your typical middle-aged man, the one that thought TV was god, the one that swore profusely when upset, the one that preferred alternative music to Broadway. He was everything consistent in her life, but he would never begin to fill her hunger for creativity.

"Yeah," she responded shortly, not relying on her voice to hold up for more than one or two words.

She tore her notes from the disorganized bag and hesitated. If she stayed, Frank would know that she had been crying. He'd see the pain in her eyes. If she left, escaped upstairs, he'd notice that something was different. All the theatre in the world couldn't teach her how to act normal when her life was slowing shattering.

"I'm just going to go work on these pages," she mumbled, her speech lacking its usual sharpness. "Derek's having a fit because they're not done." Not once did she dare meet his eyes.

The papers in her hand, Julia started stepping towards the staircase. She almost smiled at how ridiculous she had been. Of course Frank wouldn't have noticed a difference in her. Frank wouldn't have noticed if she'd walked in with short, blonde hair. The realizations sent a jabbing longing through her. She wanted him to notice…she wanted someone that would notice.

The small voice in her head said that she had already had her chance with the man that noticed, and she had pushed him away, leaving him crying in the middle of a hallway.

"You always have to please Derek, don't you?" her husband questioned rhetorically.

Julia's stomach clenched. Had she underestimated his perception? Had he seen her feelings, her awkward, confused feelings, even before she herself had noticed them? No…he couldn't. Could he? The woman froze halfway up the stairs, her heart pounding a death beat inside of her.

"No," she snapped. "I don't care about him. I mean, he's our director and if he wants the pages then I should probably-"

Frank cut her off by chuckling warmheartedly.

"I was kidding, Jules," he laughed, and she cringed at the nickname that had only been used by one other person. "I know how much you and Tom hate him. I'm actually surprised you're doing anything that he's demanded of you."

She could feel the tension in her shoulders release as she exhaled deeply. Thank god, she thought. Thank god he _didn't _notice.

But the short-lived dread had changed her thoughts. She didn't want to go upstairs and hide from her husband, hide from her memories, hide from her emotions. She wanted to face them, to learn what she really felt, if she even felt at all. And sitting in bed writing lyrics wasn't going to help her with that.

"I'm going to see Tom," Julia declared, her words regaining their typical ring.

"Now?"

She followed her husband's eyes to the small clock on the stove with its bright numbers reading 8:54. Feeling a bit taken aback, she wondered how long she'd sobbed for. She'd been almost certain it was around six o'clock. Instead of showing her confusion, she forced her lips into a small smile.

"We live in New York City, Frank; I hardly doubt he's asleep."

She kissed him quickly on the cheek, closing the conversation for any further debate, and grabbed her purse off the table. Closing the apartment door behind her, Julia paused and unzipped her bag. Her phone was resting near the top. Making sure Frank hadn't followed her out into the hallway, she dialed Tom's number from memory and waited as it rang.

"Julia, nice of you to call. You know, it's hard to write a musical when you're writing partner is missing in action…" He had the voice he used when he was planning on talking for a while.

"Tom, listen to me."

"What? Is this about today, because I'm incredibly sorry about what Derek -that ass-said to you, but I can't say I disagree. I mean, Michael is affecting your decision making, not that the jerk had any right to broadcast your life across a crowded room…"

"_Tom_," she emphasized. He stopped speaking.

"Yeah?"  
>"…if anyone asks, I'm over at your house. As of right now."<p>

There was dead silence on the other end of the phone line. She started walking down the stairwell, her conscience feeling guiltier with every step, with every beat of quiet. Tom was breathing deeply on the other end.

"You're seeing Michael again, aren't you?" He finally said, his tone so disapproving she felt as if she was being chastised. Now Julia was the one reduced to silence, trying to word her response in the most careful way.

"No."

"No?"

"No. It wasn't right. Michael and I…we couldn't be together. It's over." Just the simple sentence made her heart tear all over again. She couldn't stop adding salt to her wounds.

"…I'm glad, Julia. I'm so glad."

She collected herself, trying to bring her thoughts back to the moment, to the matter at hand. "Tom, I need to talk to someone. And don't even start, I'll be fine… I can take care of myself. But I don't want people to know, especially Frank."

The man hesitated. "You want me to cover for you?"

"Yes."

"I will. I have no idea what I'm getting myself into, but I will."

If she could have found a way to hug him through the phone, she would have. For the first time that day, her face broke into a smile. If life was Hell, then Tom was the little glimmer of hope that said the flames couldn't last forever.

"Love you, Tom, you know that. And I promise, I'll get the lyrics finished."

He laughed a little. "Don't let anyone bully you into it. And Julia, you can trust me. Who do you need to talk to?"

She paused.

"Derek. I need to see Derek."

**A/N: Love the reviews, thank you guys so much! I realize this chapter ended a bit predictably, but I was working more towards leading into the next chapter than building suspense. And to the reviewers (past, present, future): Any characters you want to see take more of a role in this story? I'm willing to write basically anyone. Expect a chapter in about a week!**


	5. Harmony

The streets of New York City had always scared Julia, especially after having grown up in an unknown town where you left the doors unlocked and asked the homeless on the street to come in. She loved the lights, the opportunities, the art around every corner, but she couldn't stand the constant fear of every man walking just a little too slow. Her heart pounded at the slightest disruption and she quickened her pace. That was what she was frightened of, right? The city at night?

Yes. Because she didn't want to think about what else she'd be scared of, talking to Derek at 9:00 p.m., all alone. She didn't want to think of the emotions he brought on inside her. She had walked this path before, falling in love with someone she just couldn't-just shouldn't- have, and she never wanted it again. But she couldn't negate the longing that overtook her at the mere thought of his name.

Derek's apartment was only a few blocks away from her own, and still she felt as if she entered another world. The building was huge, the bricks nicely preserved, and a young doorman waited to make sure of everyone's best intentions. Julia paused at that. She knew that, unless she managed to force Derek to open his door, he wasn't going to make time in his "busy" schedule to see her this late at night. He certainly wouldn't at the request of some immature door guard.

"Hi," she called as she neared the building entrance. She purposefully made her voice softer, her eyes looking up through her long eyelashes.

The boy, for he probably wasn't older than 18, hesitated.

"Um…do you…have an appointment?" He choked, and Julia inwardly smiled at the charm she still possessed. Taking full advantage of her acting skills, she made her eyes appear innocent and confused.

"No, I'm just here to see an old friend. I could just…leave, I guess…" she trailed off, acting as if her heart was broken. Which, come to think of it, it was. Just for other reasons entirely.

"No! No, that's okay, you can head up," he stuttered, and she smiled a quick thank you before taking to the stairs.

She couldn't deny the apprehension griping her heart now. It was as if it was a dark cloud, one that took her insides and twisted them, but shining through was a single ray of light, the one that said that maybe he did care. Maybe he cared as much as she wished she didn't.

Julia wasn't at all surprised to find the windowless door locked. She rang the doorbell once, waited for some sign of moment, then hit it again. She wasn't going to leave, not unless he came to the door and forced her to go. She'd come way too far for that.

"Derek, open up," she called, rapping harshly on his door. The woman was rewarded with only silence.

Her chest tightened, her breathing shallow and ragged. What if he really didn't care? What if that man, the one that had saved her in the hallway…what if he didn't exist at all? Could she have made all that up just to reassure herself that her life wasn't lost? And then…if he didn't exist, she didn't have a single person to truly make her feel alive.

A surge of desperation ran through the red haired woman. He had to be there. He had to. Derek _did _have a kind side, he _did _care for her…and she cared about him. More than she'd ever be willing to admit. Her eyes scrunched with the emotion inside her and she kicked the door sharply with her heel.

"Goddammit, Derek, it's me!"

She practically fell into him as the door swung open. His eyes looked tired, his hair tousled in a messy but annoyingly attractive way. Derek kept a hand leaning on the doorway, staring inquisitively at the woman before him.

"What can I do for you?" He drawled, deeply contrasting her mess of feelings.

Her blue eyes searched his face, trying to find some answer to her problems, trying to figure out why she was even there in the first place. Julia felt like he was everything. The longer she gazed, the more her feelings crescendoed, until she felt like she'd go insane if she didn't do _something_. And so she did.

Her lips crashed into his, hesitantly at first, as he stood as a statue, not rejecting her but never responding. She tangled her hands in his black hair and he stumbled forward a few steps, fitting his muscular abdomen to her body as if they were puzzle pieces, made to match together. And then his mouth was moving against hers, and his hands were everywhere, and she was being pulled into his apartment with the door closing behind her.

Finally she pulled away, her chest heaving with breathlessness. Julia looked downwards, not wanting to see what was in his eyes. She could hear him panting slightly a few feet away. What was she supposed to say?

"I'm…sorry," she managed after a moment. Her eyes stayed downcast until his hand was on her face, coaxing it upwards.

"Don't be sorry." He murmured. "Unless you're sorry for yourself."

She quickly shook her head, feeling his hazel eyes locking with hers.

"I'm not," she whispered, the weight of the two simple words already pressing on her heart.

"Good."

Then his rough hand was in hers, leading her to the living room, pushing her gently down onto the leather couch. His hand paused caressing at her neckline.

"Are you sure you're not sorry?"

Julia closed her eyes, overtaken with his hands and his words and the emotions inside her that she couldn't suppress. She put her hand over his, squeezing it slightly at her collarbone. She wanted to be unsure, she wanted to care more about Frank and Leo and everyone she'd hurt, but she wasn't. She was more certain about this than about anything she'd ever done before.

"Yes," she breathed. "I'm sure."

He kissed her deeply and she was lost in his confidence, in his humanity. She felt her fears and anguish disappearing into the melody of her life, now in perfect harmony with his.


	6. Realizations

Julia awoke suddenly, the first dim rays of light barely shining through the window curtains. Her body felt tired, sore and she groggily rolled over, glancing at the 6:00 blazed on the small alarm clock. Which definitely wasn't hers. The lyricist bolted upright in bed, trying to remember what had happened, where she was.

The memories that came flooding back made her stomach knot. She glanced over at the man beside her, his hazel eyes trained on her face. How long had he been watching? Julia clutched the satin blankets to her chest and turned her body to face Derek.

"Good morning," he said, his eyebrow raised.

She blushed a little at the normality of it, at the way he was eyeing her…as if they were a proper couple, as if waking up together wasn't different at all. In a way, it felt as though it wasn't. It felt right, like the final puzzle piece locking into place.

Julia didn't know what to say. Derek had a way of stealing the words off her breath, of making her feel beautiful and artistic but completely lost all the same. The things that had happened between them…they were so enticing, so mysterious…so dangerous. They could make her feel completely alive, and be simultaneously killing her.

"Derek…" she murmured, and it was enough to convey every feeling she had locked inside.

He pulled her down again, bringing their faces close. Her heart pounded. The night before…she was lonely, emotional, tired. The shadows and darkness had erased her doubts. But now? Now she didn't know what to do. The sun streaming through the glass had shed its light on everything wrong.

He had his arms wrapped around her, trying to be romantic, but it only felt like a trap. She pried open his fingers and took his weight off of her. It was wrong. So right, but wrong. Julia climbed out of the bed, keeping her head turned away, and discreetly dressed. The last thing she wanted was for him to see her at her very worst, six a.m. in the morning kind of phase, the one that only Frank had every really perceived.

"You're leaving now? Without even a good morning?" Derek mumbled, his tone taking a hint of sarcasm. The director had his eyes scrunched slightly at the morning light, at the sudden goodbye that came too soon. He yanked himself upright, hanging onto the metal headboard.

Julia turned quickly, her long, tangled hair whipping her face. The reality of everything was just barely hitting her… the reality of breaking up with Michael, the reality in the web of lies she had with Frank, the reality of finding solace in Derek and his unpredictable ways. Was she leaving? Could she ever truly leave? She could take off, never look back, but he'd always have that pull on her.

"Good morning, Derek." She conceded, her voice airy with the pressure of life.

He looked up, his eyes opening a little more, calculating her facial expression like a math problem. Derek's lips turned down and his brow furrowed. As much as he'd never admit it, he didn't want the lyricist to leave.

"You'll be back tonight?" He questioned in a way that had only one answer.

Julia's heart pounded, beating through her whole body.

"Yes. I'll be back tonight."

She finished tying her scarf and left with her head down, realizations hitting her like killing stones.

**A/N: Sorry for the wait for this chapter! Good news is, I'm on school break now, so there will probably be a couple chapters this week. As always, thanks for the reviews, they really brighten my day! Questions/Comments/Suggestions/Complaints? **


	7. Happy

"And a five, six, seven, eight!"

Julia Houston's heeled shoes tapped on the wooden dance floor as she waltzed into the practice room, only five minutes late and still receiving death glares from the stage manager. Look here, she thought. I wrote this damn musical, and all you do is sit there scribbling in your copy of the script. I have a right to be late if I want to be. Instead of starting yet another interesting conversation, however, she settled on scowling and tried to inconspicuously take her seat.

"Glad you could make it, _dear_," Derek purred, his voice low and close to her ear. She pretended not to notice, reaching for a pen to impatiently flick between her fingers. If there was one thing she didn't want, it was for the rest of the room to be let in on her little fling with Derek. If having an affair was cause for constant battering, having an affair with the director himself might just get her a headline in the New York Times.

Ivy sounded amazing, as always, belting her top notes with ease, but Julia couldn't help but regard her with contempt. She hadn't even remembered that the rising star was supposedly "with" the man with whom Julia had spent the night. If that was true, why wasn't Derek being more careful? Even now, as they watched the 14th try on the same chorus song with decreasing interest, his hand casually rested on the back of her folding chair, moving in barely noticeable circles against her back.

"Talking, last night, were you?" Tom leaned over, speaking through his teeth.

The woman shot him a look, her blue eyes pounding into his.

"You covered for me, didn't you?"

Her best friend, her writing partner, nodded, seemingly annoyed. True, he had a blatant dislike for the man she was secretly with, but she couldn't help but feel his irritation was at something more. She almost laughed in hopelessness at the list of things he could be mad at. Like the fact that she was cheating on Frank, that she hadn't seen Leo in two days, that she was forgetting her lyricist duties for her love life…that she was actually happy for the first time in months, and it had nothing to do with Tom. It made her cringe. He deserved more than that.

"Honey, we'll talk later. Just…leave it alone for now, okay?" Her eyes were pleading for understanding. Despite his aggravation, Tom felt himself having sympathy for the woman, and he leaned close to her ear.

"As long as it's not the type of 'talking' you and Derek do."

He smiled a little lopsidedly and she giggled, happy that he had momentarily forgiven her, that they were back to joking around as always. Even the stage manager seemed less arrogant as she called for a ten minute break. Derek stood suddenly and Julia sat up straighter, her world clouded with love struck melodies and those brilliant hazel eyes. She had fallen, she realized, deeper than she had meant to, but it didn't seem to matter. As long as she could be with _him_.

"We have ten minutes, you know," she murmured, gazing up at Derek as she stood.

He smirked, raising his eyebrow.

"How fast do you think I am?"

Julia laughed out loud, not caring who saw, not caring who cared. She was happy, truly blissfully happy, and the only thing that could get in the way was…

…was the blond haired man approaching her seat with his sad, innocent eyes, begging her wordlessly to take him back.

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews! Also, I'm keeping this story at a "T" rating to have it accessible to more people, but if you want more, **FluffyMareep **wrote a lovely little bit of "M" Derek/Julia, so go check it out =) As always, please review!**


	8. Enough

Julia's eyes widened as Michael approached her table, her mind whirring with guilt, apprehension infiltrating her carefully constructed happiness. She turned quickly to Derek and tried to signal to him that something wasn't right, that she needed to be saved from this situation, but his attention was fixated on Tom, the pair flinging insults and scheduling problems and 10 years of built up loathing at each other with venom. At least Tom won't see this, then, she thought, remembering how she had confided in her writing partner that she was done with the actor in front of her.

"What do you need?" she demanded of Michael, speaking with her "business voice."

He leaned in close and she could feel his breath warm on her ear.

"You know what I need," he whispered softly. She trembled slightly but pulled back, standing up behind her table to avoid proximity. Of course she knew. She'd known since she left him sobbing in the middle of the hallway. But now…now wasn't the time to deal with any of this. She had finally found happiness…why couldn't she revel in it for just one day before the darkness set back in?

"Well, you seem to be doing fine with the new lyrics. I know that melody line is a little bit more in the chest-voice range than you're accustomed to, so maybe schedule a few meetings with Tom and you two can…"

"Julia." She wasn't going to stop.

"…can practice it, and maybe change it a bit. You know, you could take it into head voice for the next few rehearsals if it would help, but—" If she stopped, then she'd have to listen to him.

"_Julia." _And she couldn't bear to listen right now.

"—I think it would be better to do it the right way, just so you don't train yourself to do it wrong. However…"

"Julia, for the love of God, listen to me!" Michael grabbed her arm and she quickly snatched it back to herself, glaring at him to hide her pain.

"I'm not having problems with the new music, and you know it! I need to talk to you. About _us._" He softened his tone a little, like "us" with something sacred, something holy.

"Michael, there's nothing to say." She made to leave but his words stopped her, a leash she couldn't free herself of.

"If you broke up with me because of your husband, than what's with this, Julia?" He asked, hurt evident in his baby blue eyes. She followed his gesture over to the director, still engaged in deadly dialogue. Julia's breath hitched.

"I don't know what you mean." She had to get out of there.

"Is he better than me? Is it less wrong to be with him because he can give you more?"

"Michael, stop." The lyricist scrunched her eyes a little, watching her life unfold like a horror movie.

"Well, guess what, Jules? Maybe he _can_ give you more than me, but he'll always be giving you only a little of what he has. And I've always given you 100%...I always will. So, you know, when he dumps you off your little pedestal and leaves you all empty inside, maybe then my best will be enough for you."

The man turned and pushed through the rehearsal room doors, leaving Julia to clutch her stomach from the pain inside. He was right, of course. He was always right. And what _would_ she do when Derek got sick of having her as his shiny little novelty? Would she end up running back to Michael, the man that had caused her the pain to begin with?

Derek and Tom were still fighting, a few chorus members were stretching in the back of the room, and the stage manager stood checking her watch. Nothing had changed. No one had even noticed her life falling apart.

Julia gathered her thoughts and turned to the director, tapping him lightly on the shoulder to break him from his insults.

"I'm going home. I'll see you tonight."

Derek nodded, a little bewildered, a little pent-up from his discussion with Tom, and the red headed woman left without another word.

**A/N: I'll put some more Julia/Derek into the next chapter, I realize there wasn't very much in this one. Anyways, thanks again for the reviews, and please continue to review!**


	9. Battlefield

"Are you married to Tom now, Julia? Is that why you have to leave at night…to sleep with _him_ and leave me in a cold bed? Funny, you know, I always thought he preferred men!" Frank's harsh words hurt her more than physical blows could ever begin to. She flinched a little, putting the distance of the room between them. He was being sarcastic, of course…he knew—thought he knew—that she and Tom were working on strictly business matters, but his nerves were worn thin at her nightly absences. If only he realized how right his jibes were. Not that she was sleeping with Tom (the thought made her cringe), but that she was sleeping with someone else, letting her pleasure override her husband's loneliness.

"Frank, we're working! The musical premieres sooner than we're ready for, and our songs aren't even finished! It's hardly a party!" she fired back, his words striking a nerve inside her heart.

The middle-aged man slammed the cup he was holding onto the counter and balled his hand into a fist. Julia's eyes widened, her hands reflectively moving to protect her face, but he only punched into the cupboard, leaving a hole in the woods and small cuts on his fingers. She couldn't, she wouldn't believe what was happening. Her own husband, her gentle, loving husband, had come so close to physically harming her over spending too much time at "Tom's". What would he do if he learned where she was really going?

For the first time in their entire marriage, she felt afraid.

"I have to leave…" she murmured, dumbstruck. "My god, Frank, I can't stay here."

His eyes flashed regret, then contorted with rage. The lyricist quickly grabbed her bag and darted out the door, praying he wouldn't follow. The door had barely closed when she heard glass smashing hard against it. She _was_ that glass, thrown to fly through the air until she finally hit reality and shattered into unfixable pieces. Julia quickened her pace into a slow run, desperate to be back in Derek's loving arms.

She was a tragic mess by the time she arrived at the director's door, her mascara running in black tracks down her porcelain face, her curls disheveled. What had she done? What good would this do?

He opened the door before she even gathered the courage to knock and stared in shock at the woman before him. Derek held his arms out with a level of uncertainty and she immediately collapsed, holding herself against him as if she was afraid he'd let go. The director awkwardly patted her back, not usually one for emotional displays.

"It's nothing! I'm fine. I just—I can't—don't know…" Julia stuttered as Derek led her into his apartment. He sat beside her on the couch, keeping his arms tight around her. To be honest, he was afraid for her. His romantic interest—for he didn't yet dare to consider the woman a lover—had shown more negative emotions in the past week alone than in the rest of the time he had known her.

Julia rested comfortably in the man's arms, feeling her breath even out and her sobs slowly reside. There was something about his silence, the way he never loosened his hold, that made her feel safe. She thought to what Michael had said about him only giving her a part of what he had, and suddenly, the words didn't ring as true. And what if this was only half his heart? Wasn't that better than having none?

The emotions she felt towards him…they were so intense, so _real_. It felt like she was one of her characters, living the feelings that normal people could never begin to realize. Maybe it was just lust, a twisted admiration, a need for something more, but Julia had that heavy feeling in her heart that she rarely felt. Was it possible to love someone that she had so recently hated? Was love even real?

"You're amazing," she murmured, kissing each of Derek's fingers as he held her tighter against his chest.

He gave her that smirk, the one that meant he knew, the one that meant there weren't enough words to convey his reply. She let her eyes flutter closed, lulled into a temporary security. She was safe, protected by his arms and his rare emotion. Though her life was a conflict of logic and love, the war had to pause at some point, even if only to reignite with new passion. She was safe; safely resting in a battlefield.


End file.
